


Dream Me Off My Feet

by dixons_mama



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Accidental Confession, Bad Flirting, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Co-workers, Explicit Sexual Content, Human Disaster Bucky Barnes, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Oblivious Bucky Barnes, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Sharing a Bed, Top Steve Rogers, Unrequited Crush, Wooing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:48:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28054890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dixons_mama/pseuds/dixons_mama
Summary: When Bucky decides to woo his co-worker, Steve Rogers, he's only sure of one thing. It's either the best, or the worst idea he's ever had.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 28
Kudos: 239
Collections: Star Spangled Secret Santa 2020





	Dream Me Off My Feet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [debwalsh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/debwalsh/gifts).



> Title from Hysteria by Def Leopard
> 
> Huge thanks to my amazing beta [humapuma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/humapuma/pseuds/humapuma/) for her endless support and brilliant brain

Bucky knew wooing Steve Rogers was going to be tough, the guy was chock full of righteous fury and never held back when someone needed a lesson in not being an asshole. Nor did he hold back when it came to helping others, and the way it brightened his smile to do so. That's what Bucky liked about him, though. The fire behind Steve's ocean blue eyes, heart of gold, and absolutely sinful smile just _did things_ to Bucky. When he'd first told his best friend, Natasha, she’d raised one perfectly arched eyebrow and asked if he needed a mental health evaluation.

"You're not being a very supportive friend," Bucky whined as he threw himself onto Nat's couch dramatically.

"Have you ever even talked to Rogers?" She asked, not bothering to look up from her phone.

"Well, no.. not exactly," Bucky began hesitantly, "not yet."

"What do you know about him?"

Bucky perked up as he answered, "I know he likes animals, coffee, art, action movies, and- what?"

Natasha had put her phone down and was looking at him suspiciously, "Are you stalking him?"

" _What_ ?" Bucky barked out incredulously, "I would never.. well, okay, I checked out his social media accounts, but that is _not_ stalking!"

"Uh huh," Nat replied, sounding thoroughly unconvinced. "If you're serious about this, I know Sam is close with him. You could get some info from him, like if Rogers is even into guys."

Bucky cringed. "I guess I should start there."

*****

The following day, as Bucky ate his lunch alone in the employee break room, Natasha approached him with Sam in tow. Bucky took a deep breath as he eyed them. He’d never had any kind of social interaction with Sam before, but if Nat trusted him, Bucky knew he had to be good people.

"Barnes, meet Sam Wilson." Natasha sat down opposite of Bucky and grinned as Sam stared him down.

"What do you want with Steve?” Sam asked sternly.

Bucky hesitated for a moment before replying. “I, uh, I want to ask him out.”

Sam took a seat beside Natasha, a perplexed expression on his face. "Why?"

"What a good question," Nat added with a mischievous smirk; Bucky scowled at her.

"Well," Bucky began, feeling like he was explaining his intentions to Steve's father. "He just seems like a really great guy." When Sam raised an eyebrow at him, he quickly added, "Plus, you know, he's hot."

A smile slowly blossomed over Sam's face, and Bucky hoped that was a good sign.

"Steve hasn't mentioned you, how long have you known each other?" Sam asked.

"Um, we don’t exactly _know_ each other… socially." Bucky felt his face heating up. 

"You want to ask someone out that you've never even talked to?" Sam asked, suspiciously.

"We attend a lot of the same meetings together," Bucky answered defensively, "I've seen how he stands up for people, and when he's talking about something he’s passionate about... I just-"

"C'mon, Sam, can't you see the little hearts in his eyes?" Nat cooed.

Bucky frowned at her and crossed his arms. Meanwhile, Sam seemed to be thoroughly entertained by Bucky’s misery.

“Okay, okay,” He finally placated. “What is it you want to know about Steve? You ask anything inappropriate and you won’t like how I respond. Got it?”

“Right, of course, thank you.” Bucky nodded quickly, unfolding his arms to put his hands on his lap. This seemed as good a time as any to fidget mercilessly. 

When Bucky opened his mouth to speak, he found that he was thoroughly tongue-tied. Natasha gave her signature eye roll, and turned to Sam. 

“Is Rogers even into guys? I feel like that needs to be clarified before anything else.” She glanced in Bucky’s direction. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Uh, yeah, right. Definitely,” Bucky mumbled, feeling his cheeks heat up. “If he is, is he out?”

The corner of Sam’s mouth ticked upward, as he eyed Bucky up and down. “He is. And he is.”

“Um, do you think…” Bucky couldn’t help but squirm under Sam’s intense gaze. “Do you think he’d be into… a guy like me?”

“From what Nat has told me about you, I’d have to say most certainly.” 

Bucky shot Natasha a questioning look but only received a shrug in response. 

“So,” Bucky glanced down at his sandwich for a moment, taking a deep breath, and continuing. “Any tips on how to-”

“It just so happens that Banner Tech is holding a charity event next month.” Sam smirked as Bucky’s eyes widened dramatically. “Which means you have plenty of time to woo him with your good looks and charm before asking him to be your date.”

“Uhhh, I don’t-” But Bucky was cut off again, this time by Natasha.

“Don’t even bother finishing that sentence, James.” Bucky cringed at the use of his real name. “You like Steve Rogers, so grow a pair and, as Wilson said, _woo_ him. I’m sure Sam can give you a few tips, to make it easier.”

Bucky could only bite his lip nervously as Sam and Natasha grinned at one another. This was going to be an absolute disaster; but deep down he held onto a sliver of hope.

*****

The following Monday, Bucky found himself struggling to concentrate on his newest prosthetic creation. It was nearly unheard of for him to be distracted from his work, but today was different. He looked down at the crinkled paper in his hand (because paper was a perfectly acceptable medium to write on, thank you very much, _Natasha_ ), and unnecessarily reread the list. After spending the entire weekend studying it, Bucky could have recited every word with his eyes closed.

“Barnes.”

The sudden sound of Okoye’s deep voice behind him had Bucky all but choking on his own tongue. He quickly turned and looked at her with wide eyes. Her stern demeanor had always put the fear of God in Bucky, even though she’d never so much as frowned at him.

“Y-yes?” He forced a smile on his face, hoping he didn’t look quite as intimidated as he felt.

Okoye tapped a finger (that could, no doubt, kill him) on her watch. “The meeting is beginning in five minutes.”

“Oh! Right, of course. Thank you,” Bucky sputtered, grabbing his laptop, and following her down the hallway.

When he entered the conference room, only several paces behind Okoye, Bucky’s eyes immediately zeroed in on Steve. As though he could _feel_ Bucky’s creepy stare, Steve glanced in his direction and gave a small wave, as the corner of his mouth curled upward. Bucky’s complete lack of chill allowed a smile that he was sure came out looking more like a painful grimace.

In a stroke of luck, Bruce entered the room with Carol Danvers, the no nonsense COO of Banner Tech, and everyone quickly took their seats. Bucky sat directly across from Steve, knowing this was the perfect time to attempt his first act of wooing. Waiting ten, agonizing, minutes, Bucky inconspicuously retrieved the pen holding his bun in place, and tapped it gently against his bottom lip. When he was sure that he had Steve’s attention, he slipped an inch into his mouth. Glancing up at him, Bucky was surprised by the intense stare Steve had on him. 

Maybe Sam was right after all.

“ _Barnes,”_ Carol called to him sharply.

Startled, Bucky bit down on the pen, cracking it open. Instantly, black ink spilled out of his mouth, dripping down his chin, and hitting the table. Bucky felt his entire body heating up with blush, and bolted out of his chair, mumbling, _excuse me,_ before darting down the hallway. 

Bucky burst through the bathroom door and headed straight for the sink, spitting into it. He turned the faucet on and began washing his mouth out repeatedly, hoping to get the disgusting taste off of his tongue. When he finally looked up at the mirror, he could only groan in embarrassment. Streaks of ink stained his lips, chin, and, _of course_ , his white button down shirt. He grabbed a paper towel and began scrubbing his face, but found that it only irritated his skin, turning it an angry red.

“Hello?” Steve’s voice suddenly echoed in the silent room. “James? You in here?” When he rounded the corner, away from the door, Steve spotted him.

“Uhhh.” Bucky wasn’t sure why Steve was there, perhaps it was a part of the curse someone had undoubtedly put on him.

“Here.” Steve held a small bottle out to Bucky. “It’s tea tree oil, it’ll help get the ink off.”

Slowly reaching for it, Bucky couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow in confusion.

“Do you always carry this around, or is this just some kind of lucky coincidence?” 

“Oh, um, well,” Steve stuttered out, rubbing the back of his neck nervously as his cheeks reddened.

“Not that I’m unappreciative!” Bucky quickly added, realizing how rude he sounded.

“I, uh, use it a lot, especially when I’m drawing with pens. Figured it couldn’t hurt to always have it on hand,” Steve answered with a shy smile. 

“You’re an artist?” Bucky blurted out.

A full blush covered Steve’s face then, and it made Bucky’s heart do something akin to a backflip.

“N-no, not really,” He huffed, looking down at his shoes. “I just draw in my spare time.”

“I never realized there was a prerequisite for qualifying as an _official_ artist.”

Steve chuckled lightly, before looking back up at Bucky with an unidentifiable expression. He grabbed a few paper towels and handed them over. “Just put a little bit of the oil on this, then rub it over your, uh,” Steve gestured at Bucky’s face, “everything.”

“Oh, right. Thanks.” Bucky looked at himself in the mirror and wanted to cringe at the site. This was not what he’d been aiming for.

“Do you need a shirt?” Steve asked, eyeing Bucky’s unsaveable button down. “I have a spare, if you need one.”

Bucky tilted his head like a confused dog. “I don’t want to take up any more of your time if-”

Exhaling out a quiet laugh, Steve shook his head. “It’s no trouble, I don’t mind helping you out.” Steve suddenly clamped his mouth shut, then quickly added, “Plus it gets me out of another tedious meeting, right? I’ll be right back.”

Once Steve had exited the room, nearly sprinting, Bucky frowned at the bottle in his hand. The number of emotions he was experiencing at that moment were beyond excessive and Bucky did not want to deal with them whilst covered in ink and awaiting Steve’s return. Instead, he carefully opened the bottle and took a small whiff, followed by immediately holding it out at arms length, coughing.

“Sweet baby Jesus!” Bucky sucked in a deep breath, clearing out his lungs.

The scent wasn’t horrible, but it was incredibly potent. Carefully dabbing a few drops on a paper towel, Bucky held his breath and began patting it over his face. It was then that his disloyal mind began obsessing over what Steve had said, that he’d only wanted to get out of the meeting. Letting out his breath, grumbling to himself, _but he didn’t have to offer a shirt, right?_ That line of thought gave him a nugget of hope, until another came crashing down, _lending Bucky a shirt would only keep him out of the meeting longer._

“Ughhhh, fuck my life,” He wailed, perhaps just a tad dramatically.

“Are you okay, James?” Steve entered the room quickly. “I heard you outside, did something happen?”

Bucky could only stare at him, mouth itching to scream in despair. Instead, he forced a half hearted smile and shook his head.

“Sorry, yeah, I’m fine. Just, uh...” Bucky trailed off, knowing he couldn’t finish the sentence the way he wanted to.

“Having one of those days?” Steve gave a sympathetic grin.

“Yeah, exactly.” Bucky looked down and spotted the shirt in Steve’s hands.

Steve seemed to suddenly realize he was holding it as well, and handed it over, but then pulled it back. “You’re still kinda inky.”

“Oh, right.” Bucky slapped his hand to his forehead, belatedly remembering that he _was_ in fact still covered in ink, and now had a rather impressive palm print to join the rest.

“Here.” Steve took the tea tree oil, and nodded at Bucky. “I can help you clean the rest off, if you want. I know working with it directly can kinda burn the lungs.”

Bucky wasn’t sure if this was a good sign or not, but decided to go with it. He couldn’t think of a single scenario in which this situation could get any worse.

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Y-your shirt, it’s pretty much ruined now,” Steve sputtered out. “I could use it as a rag, to wipe off the ink, It’ll be better than the paper towels.”

As Bucky’s brain short circuited, the ability to speak ceased. Standing there, mouth gaping, Steve took a hesitant step back.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“No! It’s fine,” Bucky attempted to reassure, because he really, _really_ wanted Steve to touch him in any way possible. “I just can’t believe I didn’t think of that.”

They both huffed out an awkward laugh before staring at one another silently.

_I am really blowing this,_ Bucky thought to himself.

“So, um, your shirt?”

“Oh! Right.” Slowly, Bucky began unbuttoning his shirt. When he finally slipped it off of his shoulders, and handed it to Steve, Bucky felt fairly certain that his heart was going to pound right out of his chest.

“Do you work out?” Steve asked suddenly, as he accepted the garment. The way he looked Bucky up and down couldn’t have been real.

“Uh, no, not really. My roommate, Natasha, teaches self defense classes, though.” Bucky smiled. “She’s great. Somehow she manages to keep me from looking like a bloated toad.”

Steve chuckled. “I can’t imagine you ever looking like a bloated toad, James.”

“Bucky.”

“What?” Steve furrowed his brows.

“Call me Bucky, please. Only Natasha, and my mom call me James.” Bucky squirmed as he resisted the urge to cover himself.

Nodding, Steve began dabbing the tea tree oil onto the sleeve of the shirt, before placing the bottle on the sink. Without a word, he stepped in close to Bucky, and gently rubbed the fabric over the ink. 

Bucky felt powerless to look away from Steve’s face, as he observed every inch of it. From his beautiful blue eyes, to his perfectly plumped lips, all of it had Bucky feeling flushed. When Steve seemed to be finished with his face, he dabbed some more oil on the other sleeve and began wiping down his neck.

“Could you tilt your head back?” Steve asked, his voice sounding deep and breathy.

Doing as he was asked, Bucky tilted his head back, unable to hold back the soft gasp at the sensation of the cool oil against his skin. It felt like Steve spent hours cleaning Bucky’s neck and chest, though he knew it was probably more like minutes. 

“Okay, done.” Steve looked down at the shirt in his hands and seemed to hesitate.

“You can throw that out if you want,” Bucky offered. 

“Right,” Steve murmured, tossing it into the trash bin.

“Thanks for all your help,” Bucky managed to get out, before glancing at his watch. “We probably missed the entire meeting by now, it’s almost lunch. I, uh, I should get going.”

Steve’s expression seemed to drop. “Of course.”

“I’ve got plans with Nat, or else I’d stay.” 

“No, it’s fine. She’ll be waiting for you, here’s a shirt.” He handed it over, and turned to walk out. “It was nice talking to you.” Steve added softly, giving another small wave.

“You, too.” Bucky stood in place, watching as Steve hurried from the room. 

_I just fucked that up royally,_ he thought to himself, groaning in misery.

*****

Bucky collapsed onto his bed, not even bothering to kick off his shoes, as he bit back a whine of self pity. He scrubbed his hands over his eyes until he could only see white splotches beneath the lids. Wooing Steve Rogers was now, officially, the worst idea Bucky’d ever had.

“James?” Natasha’s voice cut through the jagged pieces of his thoughts. “Sorry I missed lunch, I had to pick Clint up at-” 

Squinting one eye open, Bucky saw Natasha standing in his doorway, staring at him with an arched eyebrow. 

“What happened?” She asked.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” He mumbled.

Bucky felt the mattress dip beside him as Natasha lied down beside him. “What happened?” She asked, more softly.

“I made an ass of myself in front of all my co-workers, my bosses, and _of course_ Steve.” Bucky admitted, before going on to explain his horrible pen fiasco and how he’d ended up in the bathroom with Steve.

“Wait a second.” Natasha propped herself up on an elbow. “He asked if you worked out and you started talking about _me?”_

“Um-”

“You are my best friend, Barnes, and I will always love you, but you are truly dense sometimes.” She huffed out, rolling her eyes.

“Whatever,” Bucky muttered in return, with a pout.

“So, clearly the seduction route didn’t work but it at least got you two talking. That’ll make starting up a conversation with him easier, which means your next attempt _should_ go off without an ink covered hitch.” Natasha gave him a playful shove.

“My _next_ attempt? No. Nope, not happening.” Bucky sat up, and scooted to the edge of the bed. “The chapter in my life titled _Steve Rogers_ has been redacted. Today never happened and-”

“Oh, wow. I didn’t know James Barnes was a coward. I guess you really do learn something new every day.” Natasha stood, and headed for the door.

“I’m not a coward!” Bucky shouted, following her into the kitchen. “I just know when to walk away from a fight I can’t win.”

Natasha opened the fridge, clearly ignoring his response. “Do you like Steve?”

“I feel like that has been firmly established,” Bucky lamented. “It doesn’t matter, though.”

“James, I don’t usually get sappy like this,” Natasha turned to face him, “but get your head out of your ass and be happy already.”

Before Bucky could sputter out a retort, Natasha went on. “You don’t give up on your prosthetics after one mishap.”

“Well, I…” Unable to argue that point, Bucky found himself grumbling in response. She had a point, though. Bucky Barnes was no quitter.

With a sly smirk on her face, Natasha rounded the counter and patted him on the shoulder. “Atta boy.”

*****

To say the following two weeks were an unyielding failure would have been an understatement. Going off the nearly illegible list in his possession, Bucky found himself angrily scratching out ideas one by one as they each blew up in his face.

_Surprise flower bouquet,_ that was easy enough. After the pen fiasco, flowers had to be foolproof, right?

Bucky found himself constantly peeking towards Steve’s work station, anxiously awaiting the flower delivery, and barely keeping from vibrating out of his skin. When he finally spotted a woman approaching Steve with the large bouquet of Chrysanthemums he’d ordered, the nearly painful smile that took over his face couldn’t be stopped. Bucky watched intently as Steve’s eyes lit up once he’d been handed the flowers. But before he even had a chance to read the card that came with them, Steve sneezed loudly, blowing petals everywhere. Soon, his eyes were watering, and his nose was running, and Bucky could only look on in horror. 

“You alright, Rogers?” Bruce asked as he approached Steve.

“Uh, yeah, I forgot I’m really allergic to mums.” Several loud sniffles, followed by another intense sneeze, were evidence enough of that.

“Oh, geeze.” Bruce took the flowers from Steve, frowning. “What kind of insensitive asshole would send you something you’re allergic to?”

Steve shrugged. “You can take them if you want. I’m going to the bathroom to clean up.”

Bucky’s mouth gaped, and his eyes bulged as the events unfolded before him. _“Shit,”_ he whispered to himself, slinking down in his chair, and quickly retrieving the list from his wallet. 

_Bring in his favorite book._ Third time was a charm, Bucky was sure of it. Sort of.

*****

Entering the staff lunch room with shoulders squared, back straight, and book held at chest level with the cover showing, Bucky made sure Steve was looking before casually walking past his table. 

“Oh, hey!” Steve exclaimed, stopping him.

Bucky’s heart fluttered in joy, he was finally doing something right. He turned to Steve, smiling. “Yeah?”

“You’re reading World War Z? That’s my favorite book.” 

“I’ve only just started, but yeah, it’s really good. I can see why it’s your fav-” Bucky didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before resident nerd, Ned, butted in.

“You know, the probability of zombies ever _actually_ existing is nearly zero.” He proudly declared.

Steve glanced from Bucky to Ned, and then back. He nodded slowly, looking uncharacteristically shy. Bucky frowned slightly at this, and turned to Ned. “I’m pretty sure most people know that.”

“Well, actually,” Ned quickly answered. “The reason it’s only _nearly_ zero is because of the unknown factors involving biological toxic chemicals that have yet to…”

No longer listening, Bucky wanted to throttle Ned as he watched Steve slowly back out of the conversation, and slip out of the room entirely.

“You know what,” Bucky interrupted. “I actually forgot something on my desk, I’ll be right back.”

Skittering out into the hallway, Bucky looked both ways, frantically searching for Steve, and finding him entering the elevator with a group of co-workers. When he spotted Bucky looking his way, Steve gave his usual wave, along with a small smile and awkward shrug. Bucky stood motionlessly, dumbstruck, as he watched the elevator doors slowly close. 

“Did you get what you were looking for?” 

Bucky jumped, when Ned seemed to show up out of nowhere.

“No,” He sighed, miserably. “I didn’t.”

*****

“Thank you, ma’am.” Bucky grinned, taking the bag and speed walking out of the restaurant. He could smell the delightful scent of Lebanese food, and he couldn’t wait to share it with Steve.

_Food from fav restaurant,_ was next up and Bucky refused to believe this could, in any way, go wrong. So, with newfound confidence, courtesy of both Natasha and Sam, Bucky had ordered babaganoush and several falafels from Cham’s. Bucky appreciated that Steve’s favorite restaurant was a small, family run business.

When he finally reached Banner Tech and swung the door open to the lobby, Bucky halted in his tracks, smile fading away in the blink of an eye. 

“Oh,” He whispered to himself. Steve and Okoye were sitting at a table, chatting away happily, with identical meals from the same restaurant. “Fu-”

Suddenly someone shouted Bucky’s name, startling everyone present, and Bucky flinched when he saw Peter _“call me Starlord”_ Quill nearly running toward him. He glanced in Steve’s direction and saw that his, along with Okoye’s and several other people’s, eyes were locked on him. Bucky only had time to give a weak smile before Peter was standing in front of him, panting heavily.

“Damn,” He wheezed, “I need to start taking the stairs.” 

“Um-”

“But yeah, I saw you had the specs up on the prosthetic you were working on and-” Peter froze, taking a deep inhale through his nose. “Oh my God, is that babaganoush I smell?”

“It is, but-”

Cutting Bucky off once again, Peter grabbed the bag and held it to his face, sniffing at it like a Bloodhound. “Please tell me you have extras. I’ll pay you, man.”

Bucky felt himself deflating when he saw that Steve had resumed his conversation with Okoye, both of them chuckling and digging into their food. He momentarily wondered to himself, _how can one man have so much bad luck?_ When he heard pathetic whimpering from Peter, who was still nuzzling the bag, Bucky snatched it back, frowning. 

“The extras are for Natasha, sorry,” He answered bluntly, turning and heading for the stairs.

Bucky grumbled to himself as he took each step, going over the chain of events that had just occurred, wondering if the catastrophe could have been avoided. The only solution he could come up with was if he’d only killed Quill before he’d left, which probably would have put him on everyone’s good side, being as _no one_ liked Peter. 

Four flights of steps later, Bucky took a seat on the bench in the stairwell and began angrily eating his falafel.

“Next time,” He murmured to himself, between oversized bites. “Next time.”

*****

From his perch at the end of the bar, Bucky watched as Steve scooted into a booth with two other men, at the opposite end of the establishment. Resisting the urge to look at the list, regardless of the unexplainable comfort it had begun to bring him over the past couple of weeks, Bucky ordered a bottle of beer and kept an inconspicuous eye on Steve. 

After an appropriate amount of time passed, Bucky ordered a bourbon on the rocks, and got to his feet. Taking a deep breath, and praying to whoever was listening, Bucky headed toward Steve. _Buy his fav drink @ The Captain,_ had to be a slam dunk. Although Bucky had never actually been to The Captain, he knew the bar was a classy but laid back joint; that made getting dressed in the proper attire easier. 

“You got this, Barnes,” Bucky mumbled under his breath, refusing to let his confidence wane. But before he could even begin his journey, someone was grabbing his shoulder.

“Hey, baby,” A short, grey haired man stepped into Bucky’s space, reeking of cheap whiskey. “I gotta package for you to sign for.” The man groped his own crotch, smirking salaciously.

Rolling his eyes, Bucky attempted to turn away, but the man only tightened his grip. “Is your name Winter?” 

Bucky frowned. “Wha-”

“Because I think you’ll be coming soon.” 

“Oh my God,” Bucky groaned.

The man scoffed at him. “Think you’re too good for me? Fuckin’ millenials.”

As Bucky pulled away one last time, the man roughly let go of him, sending Bucky sprawling onto the floor, knocking over a petite woman standing behind him. The contents of both their drinks took residence upon Bucky’s white henley, and to top it all off, several men began approaching him with scowls on their faces.

“Get the fuck off me!” The woman whined, and Bucky toppled over a chair as he tried to get to his feet. 

Scanning the room, Bucky was horrified to watch Steve stand up, wide eyes locked onto Bucky. When Steve took a step toward him, Bucky scrambled off of the floor and _ran_ from the bar. He didn’t slow down until he was stepping into a subway car. Panting, Bucky watched the doors slide closed, as he realized he had no idea where he was going.

*****

Thumbing through his Spotify playlists, Bucky chewed on his bottom lip as he contemplated, for the hundredth time that day, whether this was all just a lost cause. He couldn’t help but wonder if this idea, this _list_ , was really worth the endless humiliation and heartache. After so many failed attempts, was there really any chance that this final act was going to go off smoothly and win Steve over? Bucky shook his head to himself, clearing away the self doubt and negativity. Natasha had been right, Bucky Barnes was no quitter, and he wouldn’t give up until he knew for sure if he had a chance with Steve. 

He smiled when he found the song he was looking for, and began the tedious work of burning it onto a CD. It was going to be a long night, but hopefully it would end the way he’d been hoping for all along.

Bucky stood outside of Steve’s home, looking up at his bedroom window with a wide smile. Even though all of his previous attempts had been epic failures, he knew _this_ was bound to win Steve Rogers over. 

“You got this, Barnes,” He murmured to himself, placing the boombox very carefully on the ground. It had been a bitch to find the ancient relic, and it hadn’t been cheap; there was no way he was going to get a single scratch on it.

Pulling the stones out of his pants pocket, Bucky decided to do a few unnecessary stretches before taking one last deep breath. Winding up his arm, he threw the first pebble, hitting the center of the window perfectly. After anxiously waiting for a long moment, Bucky frowned to himself; Steve must not have heard it, that’s all. He sifted through his collection of ammo and picked up his largest rock. This one was bound to make enough noise.

Bucky’s nerves began creeping in, but he pushed them down. This _was_ a good plan. It _had_ to be. Jumping a few times, (to get his blood flowing, of course, because it really _was_ freezing outside), Bucky wound up his arm again, took a step back, and flung the plum sized rock. Upon hearing the sound of glass shattering, and the sight shards flying, Bucky froze. He felt his stomach drop, his lungs constricted, and his mouth dropped. 

“Oh my God,” He whispered. “Oh, shit. Fuck.”

“Zane!” Steve shouted. “Are you okay, baby? Get away from the glass!” 

Unable to take his eyes off the now broken window, Bucky considered running. He could leave the country, change his name even, maybe become a hermit out in the Australian bush. 

“Who the ever loving _fuck-”_

Steve’s furious voice faded as Bucky ran, leaving the boombox behind; his only thought being, _who the hell is Zane?_

*****

“Yeah, there was just a boombox outside my window.”

Bucky felt his stomach churn when he overheard Steve talking to Okoye in the hotel parking lot. 

“I haven’t seen a boombox since I was a teenager.” Okoye grinned. “Was there at least a cassette or CD in it?”

Steve huffed out a laugh, cheeks flushing. “Yeah, a CD. I-I played it when I got it inside.”

When he didn’t continue, Okoye nudged his shoulder. “Don’t play coy, what was on it?”

“Um, there was only one song. It was _Hysteria_ by Def Leopard.” Steve rubbed the back of his neck and turned to look around, as though checking that no one heard him. It was then that he caught sight of Bucky, (who was pretending to look at his phone). 

Bucky quickly pocketed his phone, and headed toward the hotel entrance, just making out Okoye actually _cooing_ at Steve.

“You have an admirer!” She asserted, happily.

“I don’t want an admirer, Okoye!” Steve whined in return.

Biting his lip painfully, Bucky entered the lobby and headed toward the check in desk, retrieving his room key. After dropping off his duffle bag, he went back downstairs, looking for anything to distract himself. Steve had told Bruce that he wouldn’t be able to make it to the charity event. The same charity event that Sam had told him was the perfect opportunity to ask Steve out. That clearly wasn’t happening, and to find that Steve had apparently changed his mind, had Bucky’s thoughts in shambles.

When he finally found several of his colleagues, Bucky considered joining their group, but was halted by the sound of Bruce arguing with, who looked to be, the hotel manager. Bruce never raised his voice, never showed any hint of anger or frustration, and Bucky was curious to see what the problem was that was upsetting his boss.

“Is there a problem, Bruce?” Bucky asked as he approached them.

“You could say that,” Bruce huffed, glaring at the manager, whose name tag read _Rico_. “It would appear that the hotel double booked and now someone is going to have to give up their room.”

“Sir-” The manager began, but Steve stepped forward then.

“I don’t mind giving up my room, I wasn’t intending to be here tonight, it’s only fair.” He said, ever the gentleman.

“P-perhaps you could share a room with someone, sir.” Rico stuttered, nervously.

Without thinking, Bucky blurted out, “Steve can bunk with me.”

Suddenly, three sets of eyes were on him, Steve’s wider than the rest.

“Ja- I mean, Bucky, I couldn’t impose like that.” 

“No, it’s… it’s fine, really.” Bucky lied. This was definitely _not_ fine, this was another continuation of his textbook bad ideas.

“But you’re booked in a room with a single bed, right?” Bruce questioned.

“Um, well…”

“It _is_ a king size bed,” Rico offered, happily.

“Oh, well, that’s good,” Bruce answered slowly. “Are you two really okay with this?”

Steve looked at Bucky, then back to Bruce. “I mean, _I’m_ okay with it, if Bucky is.”

Again, everyone looked to Bucky, unbeknownst of his internal meltdown. 

“Yep, I’m fine with it.” He finally replied, voice perhaps an octave or two higher than usual. 

The manager clapped his hands together. “Wonderful! I’m glad this little mishap could be resolved.”

Rico wandered off, and after thanking the two of them, Bruce headed for the open bar. Steve turned to Bucky, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Um, what room are we?” He asked with a shy smile.

Bucky stared back at Steve, words caught in his throat. There was still time to leave, maybe feign an illness and head back home, where it was safe. Where he wasn’t going to be sharing a room with Steve Rogers. He could do that, easy peasy.

“Hey.” Steve placed his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “If you’re not really okay with this, I’d understand. Just say the word and I’m out.”

Shaking his head, Bucky took a deep breath and smiled. “No, it’s okay. C’mon, I’ll show you where the room is.”

Steve picked up his own duffle bag and followed Bucky to the elevator, an awkward silence between them the entire journey. When they finally reached their destination, Bucky sat on the edge of the bed and began untying his shoes. It was only nine, but sleeping felt like the easiest way to get through the night.

“Do you mind if I take a shower?” Steve asked, kicking off his sneakers by the door.

“Nope,” Bucky grabbed his bag. “I’m just gonna change and hit the hay, it’s been a long day.”

“Oh.” Steve’s face seemed to fall, or so it seemed. “Right, okay.” 

Once Steve had shut the bathroom door behind him, Bucky quickly changed into his pajama pants and an old tee shirt, before getting into bed, lying as close to the edge as humanly possible. Instead of sleeping, though, Bucky found himself wide awake, staring up at the ceiling, mind racing, in typical Bucky fashion.

_“What the fuck is wrong with you, Barnes?”_ He asked himself under his breath. 

Just as he was wondering how awkward it would be for him to sleep on the floor, the bathroom door opened, steam billowing out as Steve exited. In just a towel. A small hotel towel. Water dripping down his chiseled chest and abdomen. Looking like one of Bucky’s wet dreams.

“Sorry, forgot my bag,” Steve whispered, as if expecting Bucky to be asleep.

Bucky couldn’t tear his eyes away from the miles of wet, glistening skin. It was only after Steve retreated back to the bathroom that Bucky realized he was beginning to get hard. _Oh no, no, no, no,_ he thought to himself, trying to think of grotesque things in hopes of dissipating his arousal. 

The bathroom door suddenly opened for a second time, and Steve reemerged, only shirtless this time. It was then that Bucky saw that he had a tattoo on his chest, and Bucky’s chest tightened painfully when he saw what it was. _Zane,_ written in neat print, right over Steve’s heart. 

“You have a tattoo,” He pointed out with a raspy voice, as if he’d never seen body art before. Bucky could only roll his eyes at himself.

Steve smiled brightly, looked down at himself. “Yeah, Zane’s my baby. I’ve had him almost four years now.” When Bucky only furrowed his brows in confusion, Steve laughed and quickly retrieved his phone, showing Bucky a picture of a black and white Great Dane. “ Zane is my dog. I adopted him several years ago, can’t imagine life without him now.”

An embarrassingly hysterical laugh bubbled out of Bucky, earning him a quirked eyebrow in return. He coughed into his fist, attempting to cover his temporary insanity.

“You have a Great Dane named Zane.”

Blushing, Steve nodded. “I know, it’s silly, but I couldn’t help myself.”

“No, no, I love it.” Bucky told him, grinning as he looked at the picture again. “It suits him. He looks like a Zane.”

“Yeah?” Steve’s face lit up, and Bucky could feel his heart beating faster.

_I am so gone on you, Steve Rogers,_ he thought to himself.

“What?” Steve gaped at Bucky, eyes nearly bugging out of his face.

“What?” Bucky parrotted, feeling his entire body set aflame as he realized he’d done more than think it. 

“Y-you… you just said…” Steve trailed off, looking, and sounding, completely stunned.

“Oh, shit.” Bucky nearly fell out of the bed as he quickly got to his feet. “Steve, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean.. I, um..”

“Are you joking?” Steve asked simply, tilting his head like a confused puppy.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make this awkward.” Avoiding eye contact, Bucky went to his duffle bag and began pulling out clothes. There was no way he could stay.

“Wait,” Steve rushed out, “I just… can you explain what you actually mean?”

Bucky dropped his clothes dejectedly, and stood, scrubbing his hands over his face roughly. This was it. The end. He wouldn’t even be able to have Steve as a friend now.

“I like you,” Bucky began, “I tried so many times to show it, to… to _woo_ you, but every time it got all fucked up and I ended up looking like a complete imbecile. I never meant for you to find out after I accidentally broke your window.”

“That was you?” Steve gasped.

“I swear, I’ll pay for a replacement. Breaking your window hadn’t been my intention.” Bucky finally met Steve’s eyes and was surprised by the lopsided smile on his face. “What?”

“I can’t believe this,” Steve huffed out, almost laughing. He walked toward Bucky, only stopping when there was barely a foot of space between them, and took Bucky’s hands in his own. “Bucky, I’ve been head over heels for you since the day I first laid eyes on you. And that time with the ink… in the bathroom?”

Bucky groaned at the memory. “That hadn’t been what I’d intended either.” Steve’s words hit him then. “Wait, you like me?”

Steve laughed then, crinkles forming around his eyes and all but radiating pure joy.

“I’m going to kiss you now. Is that okay?”

“Please,” He whispered, still in shock by the sudden turn of events. Then, leaning in, perhaps _too_ enthusiastically, Bucky slammed his forehead into Steve.

_“Ow!”_ Steve hissed, rubbing rubbed at the red bump already appearing on his skin. Bucky looked on, horrified, but Steve simply chuckled before taking Bucky’s face in his hands, and pulling him in for a kiss. 

It was chaste to begin with, but neither seemed to have the level of self control to keep it that way. Within seconds, Bucky was hard and panting into Steve’s mouth, swallowing each little whine and moan Steve let out.

“Wanna touch you,” Bucky groaned, and was happily rewarded by Steve thrusting his dick against Bucky’s.

The feeling of Steve’s erection rubbing against his own was intoxicating, and Bucky could no longer hold back. He grabbed the waistband of Steve’s pants and shoved them down, taking hold of the lead pipe that was Steve’s dick. And oh, how he wanted it inside of him. As Steve followed suit, taking him in hand, Bucky released an unrecognizably high pitched moan. 

“Fuck,” Steve grunted. “The sounds you make are even better than I imagined.” 

_“Steve.”_ Bucky felt his knees go weak at that, because not even his fantasies had been this hot. In his fantasies, Steve never was able to make Bucky wanna come by just the sight of his hands on Bucky’s body. And his hands really _were_ on Bucky this time. This felt too good to even be a fantasy.

“Bed?” Steve asked suddenly, already sounding out of breath, and Bucky nodded urgently.

Steve then fucking _lifted_ Bucky into his arms, and carried him to the bed, dropping him rather gracelessly.

_“Oof!”_

“Sorry,” Steve apologized, shucking off his and Bucky’s remaining clothes, before crawling onto the bed. “I’m kinda out of practice, let me know if you aren’t into something I’m doing.”

“O-” Before Bucky could even answer, Steve was kneeling between his legs and swallowing down his entire length. “Oh, fuck.” Bucky slammed his head back onto the pillow, toes curling in pleasure as he felt Steve fondling his balls.

Steve licked a long stripe up Bucky’s cock, murmuring, “Tastes so fucking good,” before swallowing him down again. 

“Jesus,” Bucky rasped, reaching down to grab Steve’s shoulders as he worked Bucky over, like they’d done it a thousand times before. Bucky had imagined this so often that the reality of it had his body oversensitive and he was too close too fast. “Steve, wait-” Steve released him, and Bucky had to bite back a whine.

“Am I doing something wrong?” Steve asked, brows furrowed.

“No, God, no, it’s so good, but… I don’t want this to be over so fast.” Bucky chuckled.

Without answering, Steve crawled up Bucky’s body and kissed him, gripping Bucky’s hair tight. “What _do_ you want?” Steve whispered against Bucky’s lips.

Bucky looked into Steve’s eyes and told him. “I want you inside me. I want you to fuck me.”

“Shit.” Steve squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip. Bucky’s heart began racing, worrying he’d asked for too much, but then Steve was kissing him again. “I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve dreamt of you saying that, baby.”

Endorphins flooded Bucky’s mind, knowing how badly Steve wanted him; that Steve wanted him at all. It was a feeling he never wanted to end.

“Then do it,” He told Steve, a devilish smirk on his lips. He _could_ have this, and Bucky decided to enjoy every second of it. “Fuck me, Stevie, fill me up. _Please.”_

Steve grinned in return. “I can do that for you, doll.”

Suddenly, it struck Bucky that he was thoroughly unprepared. “God damnit,” He whined. “We don’t have any lube or condoms.”

“Actually.” Steve jumped off the bed, swiftly retrieved his bag and brought it back. “When I was getting dressed, I noticed that Sam left me a little gift. The son of a bitch,” He laughed, pulling out a small gift bag and extracting a miniature bottle of lube and box of condoms. 

“Remind me to send him a fruit basket,” Bucky laughed, then quickly changing his expression. “Now, please finger me open, so that you can fuck me.”

“My pleasure.” Steve’s eyes darkened, and he flipped the lid off of the slick, drizzling it over his fingers.

Crawling back between Bucky’s legs, Steve watched with a slack jaw as Bucky pulled his legs up toward his chest, exposing every inch of himself. He couldn’t help but blush, feeling Steve’s intense gaze on his most intimate parts. Steve seemed to notice, and began softly kissing the back of Bucky’s thighs, slowly moving downward until he reached Bucky’s ass.

“Thanks,” Bucky whispered, smiling shyly. 

“Give the word and I’ll stop. I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with, okay?” Steve asserted, giving Bucky’s ass one last kiss when he received his nodded consent.

Steve circled two digits around Bucky’s hole, and even that simple touch felt like heaven. Carefully, Steve worked him open, and by the time he was three fingers deep into him, Bucky was a mewling, whimpering (and begging) mess.

_“Please!”_ He grabbed at Steve’s arm and pulled him close. “I’m ready, I need it. Please.”

“Yeah, okay,” Steve answered, pecking him on the lips one last time before sitting back up and putting the condom on. Once he’d applied a liberal amount of lube to his cock, he lined himself up with Bucky’s entrance and slowly pressed forward.

Bucky was sure the feeling of Steve’s cock filling him up was his version of meeting God. It felt like Steve was pushing all the way up to his throat, and Bucky was absolutely _there_ for it. When Steve fell forward, resting his weight on his elbows, Bucky wrapped his legs around Steve’s ridiculously tiny waist. 

“Feels so good,” Bucky told him.

“It does,” Steve choked out. “So fucking tight, ‘s so good, Buck.”

It was then that Steve began pulling back, before sliding back in, slowly building up to a perfect rhythm. Bucky pulled him into a punishing kiss that soon became nothing more than panting into one another’s mouths. Without moving away from Bucky, Steve reached back and wrapped his arm under one of Bucky’s legs, pulling it up further. The change in the angle had Bucky seeing fireworks, as each thrust hit directly against his prostate.

“Fuck, fuck, right there, Steve, don’t stop!” Bucky became a broken record, all but shouting the same words over and over.

“Got me close, baby, gonna make me come,” Steve gritted out.

“Do it, come in me,” Bucky gasped in return, reaching down for his cock and jerking himself. “Oh- Oh god, come with me, Steve.”

Bucky’s world tilted on its axis as his orgasm burst from him, painting stripes of come across his abdomen and covering his fist. Steve watched Bucky’s face with an expression of awe, and only moments later, he stilled, grunting and filling the condom with his release. When the euphoria passed, Steve fell to the side of Bucky, landing on his back and staring at the ceiling as he panted.

A comfortable silence passed between them, and Bucky couldn’t help but straight up giggle at the unexpected night he was having. Steve looked at him, and seemed to feel the same way, laughing with him.

“Holy shit,” Steve murmured, smiling at Bucky. 

“Yeah, can’t say I ever truly expected this to happen. Not after all the fuck ups.” 

Steve peeled the condom off and got up, heading for the bathroom. He returned with a warm washcloth and cleaned Bucky’s body with the gentlest of movements, as though he was afraid Bucky might break. When he was finished, he crawled back into bed, and snuggled up against Bucky.

“I’m awful glad it did, though. I can’t remember ever feeling so relieved and happy as I am right now.” Steve kissed Bucky softly on the lips then, and Bucky felt like he was floating.

“Me, too.” He smiled, eyelids feeling heavy.

Wrapping his arms around Bucky, Steve held him close, a big dopey grin on his face. And that was the last thing Bucky saw as he drifted off to sleep, more than certain that no dream could ever beat this moment.


End file.
